Memory. 



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By CHARLES B. CORY. 



In a little vine-clad cottage, in a village by the sea, 

There dwelt a little maiden who was all the world to me ; 

Her eyes were filled with happy tears, her gentle voice was low, 

As she whispered that she loved me, in the days of long ago. 

Do not forget me; remember, I 'II be true. 

There's no one else in all the world I 'II ever love but you. 

Her happy laugh comes back to me ; I seem to see her still, 
As she wandered 'mid the daisies on the cliff behind the mill ; 
Or when on moonlight evenings I took her for a row 
To gather water-lilies, in the days of long ago. 

Do not forget me; remember, I'll be true. 

There's no one else in all the world I'll ever love but you. 

They tell me she is sleeping in the village by the sea ; 
That never more again in life her lips will speak to me; 
But often in the twilight, in whispers soft and low, 
I hear again her gentle voice as in the long ago. 

Do not forget me ; remember, I 'II be true. 

There's no one else in all the world I'll ever love but you. 






MEMORY, 



CHARLES B. CORY. 



Copyright, 1896, 

BY 

CHARLES B. CORY. 



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